Fix You
by KelseyO
Summary: ...And the tears come streaming down your face/when you lose something you can't replace..." A slower, more in-depth version of Darcy's story. Eventual JohnnyxDarcy. References to Standing in the Dark, Live to Tell, and the Red Pines episode. R&R.
1. Awake

Yes, I realize that this is a ridiculously short first chapter, but I felt I needed to end it where I ended it. The other chapters will be much longer, as one of my rules as a fanfic author is that I make myself write at least 1,000 words per chapter. How do you like _that? _As usual, I very much hope you enjoy the story. For some reason I love writing from depressed people's points of view, especially Darcy's. Anyway, read on. Have fun. Review. (Please.)

* * *

There was so much weight on top of her. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.

Darcy snapped her eyes open, gasping for air and wrenching her wrists from the grips of imaginary hands. Her entire body was covered in sweat, and clumps of hair that had come out of her elastic were plastered to her face.

She knew there were tears hiding among the beads of sweat on her cheeks. She pressed her hands to her burning skin, attempting to wipe away the moisture with her clammy palms. A quick glance at the clock on her bedside table told her that it was just after three in the morning. It was going to be another long day of school.

Darcy closed her eyes and begged for sleep to come, but as she knew would happen, she stayed wide-awake. She reached for her cell phone, which she had left on the floor the previous night, and flipped through her contact list. When Peter's number came up she debated calling him, but decided not to. As much as she wanted to talk so someone who wasn't family or a guidance counselor, she didn't want to abuse his call-me-anytime policy.

On a sudden impulse she rose from her bed, her bare feet sinking into her shag rug, and approached her dark window. Drawing the thin curtains aside, she opened the window as wide as she could. She slowly knelt down before it, her folded arms spread along the sill with her hands overlapping. She rested her chin on her hands and closed her eyes.

She knelt there for what felt like an eternity, letting the cool night air fill her lungs, listening to the sounds of her sleeping neighborhood. She let her mind wander, her thoughts weaving around how her relationship with Peter was different now, how she knew her grades were slipping, and how Manny had sensed that Darcy was going through hard times and silently stepped into the role of Spirit Squad Captain.

But then Darcy realized that if she truly set her mind free, bad things drifted up. Things that she had tried desperately to push away for weeks. Things that she didn't want to think about, ever. But before she could pull herself back out of the black hole that was her mind, a raging river of memories surfaced, crystal clear images that refused to be ignored.

It all came in an overwhelming rush, like instant replay on a high-definition television and blaring speakers shoved in her ears: With Peter in the bedroom. Hurting Manny with alcohol-influenced words. Leaving her drink out in the open for less than a minute. Not quite being able to concentrate on Peter's apologies. Everything going dark. A pair of strong hands leading her off of the couch and back into the bedroom. The sinister click of the lock as a stranger trapped her inside…

Darcy forced her eyes open, slamming the door to her mind before she had to relive the entire thing--not that she didn't already do so every night. It was an annual nightmare, one that left her struggling to breathe and sweating like she had been sleeping in Death Valley. The irony of the analogy didn't escape her.

She slowly climbed back into bed, not bothering to slide under the covers. She grabbed her MP3 player, put "The Kill" on repeat and turned the volume up to max. Jared Leto's screeches hurt her ears but blocked out everything that needed to be blocked out. As she lay there, perfectly still, she thought about how oblivious her parents had turned out to be. They hadn't (to her knowledge) noticed Darcy's drastic change in behavior, how she had gone from full of God-loving happiness to quiet and withdrawn--even to the point where she could only fake-smile.

The corner of her mouth twitched as she realized something else they hadn't noticed--she hadn't worn her blue-camouflage shirt and favorite jeans since the party. The entirety of her outfit from that night was buried under mountains of junk in the darkest corner of her closet.

Just like her most painful memories were hidden away in the farthest reaches of her restless, forever-changed mind.

* * *

Just for a bit o' clarification, the song she was listening to was "The Kill" by 30 Seconds to Mars. I find it to be a great song to listen to if you're feeling a bit angsty, so that is why I chose it. If anyone has questions, comments or an autograph request, feel free to email me, review or send a private message my way. My email is And now--brace yourselves--I even have my own blog! www.greenpeppers. hOOrAH.


	2. Questions

Just a little background on why I am astoundingly posting two chapters at once--I was going along, writing chapter two, but then chapter two turned into three pages, so I decided to cut it in half and make it two chapters. Now everyone's happy, right? And another author's note--I couldn't figure out how one is supposed to spell "Sauve" so I went down the 'au' route, as opposed to the 'ua' one. I hope that's okay with everyone... Please enjoy.

* * *

She didn't wear short sleeves anymore. No matter how warm she got, she never rolled the cloth past her wrists. She didn't want people to know what she had done, that she had sliced herself open in the school showers and sat under the cold stream of water, waiting for everything to go away.

The only memory more painful than the party was that of Manny's expression when she had found Darcy. She had looked so scared as she took in the scene, terrified as she wrapped Darcy's bleeding wrist in a towel, and even close to tears as she called 911.

Darcy plucked a small gray sweatshirt from her closet, one with long sleeves and a broken zipper. Pulling it on over a dark blue T-shirt, she ran a brush through her hair, yanking the bristles through the brownish-blond strands with slightly more force than necessary.

Her cell phone beeped from the floor. She bent over to pick it up, wincing in pain and holding her head as a migraine tore through her skull. She had been getting those a lot lately. She supposed it was from listening to her music so loud, but her frequent sleepless nights probably didn't help much, either.

When the pain cleared a little she glanced at the phone's screen--it was a text from Manny, letting her know that she would pick her up in twenty minutes. Darcy tossed the phone into her green Point Zero bag, a few of her school binders soon joining it. Nagged by the feeling she was forgetting something, she peered at her 'Twelve Most Beautiful Churches in the World' wall calendar--her mother's idea--and sighed. She had Ms. Sauve today.

It wasn't that she didn't like the counselor. Ms. Sauve was really nice, easy to talk to, and eager to listen, and Darcy would be fine with having to see her if they could talk about anything she wanted. She would have loved to complain about how her math teacher hated her, share her theory about Holly J's nose job, or even ask her if she had seen any good movies lately.

But no. It was always about her stupid wrist, her stupid accident, and all her stupid "sadness." There was no changing the subject, no trying to avoid questions…all she could do to stop herself from spilling everything was keep her mouth shut. And that was what she did.

"Morning, Darcy." The sudden interruption caused her to jump slightly. She whipped around--it was her younger sister, Claire.

"Oh, hey, Claire." She had meant to sound like she actually cared about the world, but her voice came out flat and hoarse. She hadn't been talking much.

Claire peered into her sister's eyes, trying to see beyond the mask Darcy had been wearing twenty-four seven. "I was just looking for my hair brush…have you seen it?"

It took Darcy longer than it should have to process the question. She looked through the top drawer of her desk and produced the clear blue brush. She handed it to her sister.

Claire took it but did not break eye contact.

"What?" Darcy asked her, her tone more harsh than she had wanted it to.

"Nothing," her sister replied, unfazed, starting to turn away. But she stopped, glancing once more at Darcy. "Are you okay?"

Darcy almost laughed at the question. _Wouldn't you like to know._ By the change in Claire's expression, she realized she had spoken her thought aloud. She saw Claire's mouth begin to open, but she cut her off. "I'm fine. I need to finish getting ready for school."

Her sister nodded slowly, then departed to finish her own morning routine. Darcy stared after her, knowing that Claire, as smart as she was, would figure it out eventually.

And there was no telling what would happen after that.

School had become pointless. She came, she sat, she pretended she was listening and she left. If a teacher called on her she said she didn't know the answer. If anyone tried to talk to her she said she had to get to her next class. The only exceptions were Manny and Peter. Nobody else knew what she was going through and nobody else needed to.

The day dragged on until there was only five minutes left in Mr. Simpson's class, her second-to-last hour. She sat at her desk, tuning out his ramblings about technology, staring into her computer monitor until her eyes burned. She was jerked from her thoughts when the bell rang. She picked up her bag and silently joined the group of people trying to get out of the room, but then she heard her name.

"Darcy? Can I speak to you for a moment?" Mr. Simpson was leaning against his desk, his voice soft and concerned.

The room went silent as anxious students filed out. "I have to get to my next class," Darcy replied vaguely, turning to the door.

"Darcy," he called in a warning tone.

"I don't want to be late."

"I'll give you a pass."

"I don't need one."

"Darcy!"

She stopped, her eyes wide. She hadn't been yelled at in years. She turned slowly to face him, clenching her jaws to stop them from trembling.

His face melted at her expression. "I'm sorry, it's just--" He paused awkwardly, not knowing how to say what he had on his mind. "I'm worried about you."

"Why?"

"You aren't participating in class, you aren't doing your homework…you barely even talk anymore…it's like you're not here."

"Mr. Simpson, I'm right here."

"You might be physically, but you aren't mentally."

Darcy stayed silent for a moment. "I don't know what--"

"Oh, come on, Darcy!" He stood up straight, his arms dropping to his sides. "Don't try to convince yourself that your behavior is completely normal. We both know something's going on with you."

"You don't know the first thing," Darcy snapped suddenly, her voice cold.

"Then _tell_ me, and I can help you!"

She let out an empty laugh, a sad smile appearing on her face. "That depends, do you have a time machine handy?"

"What are you--"

But then she couldn't stop the words, the manic, frenzied thoughts that tumbled from her lips. "Because then I could go back to that stupid party and not have that stupid drink so I could've ruined that stupid roofie-rapist's night!" She stopped suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening with tears, her body frozen with the realization of what she had just told him.

Mr. Simpson stared at Darcy, then, realizing what he was doing, looked away.

"Darcy--" But he stopped as she tore out of the room, not looking back.

I know that _everyone _is making Simpson find out first, but I couldn't resist conforming. He's just so darn perfect for unvoluntarily hearing the supremely girl-issue problem of Darcy's. And, well...he's kind of the only teacher they regularly show on Degrassi besides Kwan and Armstrong, and I very much prefer Simpson. I'm going to post chapter three right now (well, after I finish with this, if you guys are really that technical) and I think some of you may have a few questions, so feel free to ask them in the form of reviews, private messages or emails. Chapter three, comin' atcha!


	3. Running

I'm sorry, everyone, but I have come to the conclusion that I lied about cutting that huge chunk of awesomeness in half...the first half is 200 words longer. My supreme apologies. And in case any of your eager eyes have betrayed you and skipped down to the third paragraph, yes, here enters our own Eleanor Something Nash. I am ashamed enough to admit that I could not remember the color of her eyes, so I had to improvise, in case you were wondering. And honestly, I don't think you were. Now read on. Please.

* * *

She ran until she found a bathroom, then dropped her bag next to a sink. Placing her hands on either side of the cold porcelain, she braced herself with her arms locked at the elbows and bent her head down, concentrating on breathing in and out. But it was too late; the tears began pouring out, a torrent of salty droplets falling to her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing everything around her to go away. She bit her lip, pressing her jaws together until she felt blood leaking into her mouth. She peered into the mirror, inspecting the damage, then licked away some of the crimson liquid.

A sudden presence behind her made her breath catch in her throat. She turned, her heart beating in double time.

Ellie Nash stood a few feet away from her, clad in the usual combination of band shirts and dark clothes, wearing just enough eyeliner to bring out her warm, green eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Darcy just stood there numbly. Most people immediately asked her what was wrong, if she was okay, why she was acting the way she was. But Ellie simply apologized for scaring the crap out of her.

Ellie, seeing that Darcy was lost for words, stepped a bit closer. "Your lip is bleeding."

Darcy touched her mouth with her finger, having forgotten about biting her lip. Ellie grabbed a paper towel and offered it to Darcy, who took it cautiously. Darcy turned to the mirror again, her back facing Ellie while she dabbed at her cut.

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded into the mirror, unable to find her voice and unsure of the redhead's intentions.

"Why were you crying?" Ellie asked this quietly, so much so that Darcy turned to face her. Everyone had been asking that question in a way that told her they didn't want the truth, that they just wanted her to say she was fine. But not Ellie. Just from the way she was looking at her, Darcy could tell that she actually cared, or maybe already knew what was wrong.

"It's a long story," Darcy answered, drying her eyes with another paper towel.

"And social studies is pointless. I've got time." And with that Ellie took a seat against the one empty wall in the bathroom, patting the tiles next to her.

Darcy stood there, staring at Ellie, wondering why this girl whom she barely knew was so interested in her problems. Her expression was earnest enough, but Darcy couldn't afford to trust anymore.

She opened her mouth a few times, then finally found her voice again. "I'm sorry, but I really need to go." Even she thought her statement sounded hollow, like the rehearsed salutations given by a bored cashier at the end of her shift.

She turned and pushed open the bathroom door with a great amount of effort; it seemed that she had no strength anymore. As soon as the door closed behind her she felt like crap for walking out on Ellie, someone who had tried to reach out to her, who hadn't jumped to the prying questions upon seeing her cry, who had just wanted to talk.

Darcy hurried through the deserted lobby, desperate to get outside, craving fresh, cold air. She burst through the main doors and sat on the hard concrete steps, bringing her knees to her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs.

She began to shiver, but she didn't care. She liked being uncomfortable, for some reason that she could not put her finger on. She watched the bare trees across the street sway in the wind and tried to figure out the thoughts of the occasional passerby, waiting for the last period to pass and the final bell to ring.

It felt like only a few seconds had passed when there was suddenly a gentle hand on her shoulder, a voice that knew her name.

"Darcy?" It was Manny.

Darcy looked up at her, waiting for Manny to tell her what to do. She had become a child again, functioning purely off of orders.

"Come on, let's get you home." She let her friend pull her to her feet, but didn't listen as Manny asked her something about if she had skipped class. Darcy didn't speak, and instead let Manny lead her to the car.

She was still shivering as Manny blasted the heat and switched on both of their seat warmers, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt as if she would never stop shaking. She looked over at Manny, but wasn't prepared for a full-force I'm-really-worried-about-you expression, one that was aimed right at her. She immediately looked away again, resorting to looking down at her chipped black nails in order to avoid her friend's eyes.

"Darcy, what happened to you today?" The million dollar question.

__

Mr. Simpson knows everything.

I skipped class.

I made myself bleed.

Ellie Nash tried to help me and I walked out on her.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Please know that it agonizes me to have this short of a chapter, but I couldn't resist ending it like this. Review, privately message, email...whatever you gotta do. Have fun. Thanks for reading. Mwah. (That was intended to be a visual kiss...) Criticism is now fully expected.


	4. Session

Hey, people. I'm sorry there was a slight gap between this chapter and the last one...although it could just be me, so if you were fine with the time-period of the gap, then please ignore all of the above. As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's been fun writing for Darcy so far, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I have writing it.

* * *

Darcy sat at her desk, slumped down in her chair and staring at the wall in front of her. It was plastered with countless pictures, some big, some small, of her and Peter, Emma, Manny, and combinations of all of them.

Three pictures in particular caught her eye. They were all from back when she had dated Spinner, when they had gone camping with the rest of the Friendship Club. One showed her getting her lunch with Kim, another with her playing volleyball with Melinda, and the last one was of her and Spinner sitting together on a log in front of the lake. His right arm was draped around her shoulders and she laughed as he kissed her cheek.

What struck her about these pictures was how happy she was in each of them. She hadn't had a care in the world, maybe with the exception of worrying about Spinner. She had been the one telling others to have faith, to believe that Jesus would help them through everything.

She couldn't say that now without feeling like she was lying to herself. Where had Jesus been when she started drinking, when she left her drink out so a rapist could spike it, when she had passed out on the couch and the stranger had taken her into the bedroom?

Where had he been then?

Darcy jumped when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Darcy? This is Ms. Sauve."

She had forgotten about the meeting. "Hi," she replied meekly.

"Darcy, you missed our session today."

She didn't bother apologizing. She just stayed silent.

"Did something happen today?"

Darcy had to clear her throat to find her voice. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm just thinking that if you skipped your hour today, it might be because something happened. Maybe something you didn't want to tell me about?"

"No, nothing happened."

"I'm sorry, Darcy, but I find that hard to believe."

Darcy didn't say anything. What _could_ she, without giving something away?

Instead, Ms. Sauve broke the silence. "Why don't you come in right now? Just for an hour or so, to see if anything comes up."

She shuffled through some of the excuses that immediately sprang up in her head, but she decided that it would be easier to just do what she was told.

"What time do you want me there?" she asked, without attempting to sound enthusiastic.

"Meet me in twenty minutes?"

Darcy smiled bitterly at no one. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Darcy sat slumped in her usual chair across from Ms. Sauve for what seemed like the millionth time since her accident. She had gotten used to just sitting there, staying silent in the hope of either being able to leave early or the non-existent chance that Ms. Sauve would forget about the whole thing.

While she stared at the floor to avoid Ms. Sauve's burrowing eyes, she played with a fray on her sleeve and tapped the guitar-strum pattern of a Linkin Park song that had been stuck in her head for days now, the lyrics repeating over and over in her head.

__

Wake in a sweat again

Another day's been laid to waste

In my disgrace

Stuck in my head again

Feels like I'll never leave this place

There's no escape

I'm my own worst enemy

"Darcy?"

Her head jerked up. Ms. Sauve had always waited for Darcy to talk; she had never really pried.

"Darcy, it's not healthy to keep stifling whatever feelings you have inside. You really should tell me what's on your mind--I can help you, but only if you let me."

Darcy feigned an expression of deep thought. "Well, I'm kind of hungry, I have a huge test tomorrow that I need to study for, my head has been aching since this morning, and it's kind of cold in here."

"Have you been getting headaches often?"

"No, it's just a stress headache…I'm tired," Darcy insisted, shaking her head. Why did everything always have to be taken so seriously?

"When you say 'tired,' do you mean physically or mentally?"

Darcy rubbed her right temple. "I don't know, whatever kind of tired it is when you want to sleep for ten days."

Ms. Sauve looked at her for a moment, in that way that counselors do when they are trying to find a hidden meaning behind your response, a look in your eyes that shows the truth.

"Have you been having trouble sleeping at night?"

__

I don't know what to take

Feels like I'm focused, but I'm scared

I'm not prepared

I hyperventilate

Looking for help somehow, somewhere

And no one cares

I'm my own worst enemy

"A little. Just stress over school and stuff, that's all." She didn't even convince herself.

"What specifically about school is stressful for you?"

Darcy clenched her teeth, trying to suppress her frustration and wishing that Ms. Sauve would stop reading into everything she said.

"Normal stuff, like all the homework and tests." She could feel the frustration beginning to show plainly on her face, though she was trying hard to conceal it. "I doubt I'm the only student at Degrassi who could say that."

"Maybe, but they haven't cut their wrists."

Darcy stared at her, fighting tears, biting the edge of one of her sweatshirt sleeves. Ms. Sauve must have seen that her eyes were shining, as she handed her a box of tissues, but Darcy didn't move. After a while she looked away, still furious with Ms. Sauve. She had no right to talk about her like that, about her accident, without knowing what had happened beforehand. And since Darcy had no intention of telling her that, Ms. Sauve never would.

Ms. Sauve took a few notes in her notebook and glanced at the clock near the door.

"Well, it looks like there are less than ten minutes left. Why don't you head home early?"

Darcy flashed her a half-hearted smile and left the room, relieved to be done with the session and going home.

As she maneuvered through the deserted hallways she passed by a Friendship Club poster. She began walking faster, tears welling up again, the song blaring louder than ever in her mind.

__

I've given up

I'm sick of feeling

Is there nothing you can say

Take this all away

I'm suffocating

Tell me what the fuck is wrong

I felt the song ('Given Up' by Linkin Park) matched Darcy's current personality/morale perfectly, if I do say so myself. It's a pretty good song, although I could live without the severely pissed-off screams in the middle...but enough about that--how about you guys review? That would just be lovely. Oh, and TV Guide says that next week's episode (after the Spinner/Jane/Darcy one) find Marco doing something unthinkable to get extra cash, and no, it's not gambling again. But TV Guide is implying that it's even worse than the past stripping and drug dealing done by other characters. Just thought you might want to know. I'm the nicest person ever, I know.

With me

* * *


	5. Sanctuary

I'm really really sorry for that wait, but I've had a million things to do and I have to put school first, you know? And I'm also very sorry, because after a bunch of people asked me about Ellie going to Degrassi, I realized I had clarified that in the separate story, in the mini-preview thing I had done before creating this story. So I am very sorry for the confusion--and yes, Ellie is in Darcy's grade for this fanfic. I also want to clarify that there will be no DarcyxSimpson romance or DarcyxEllie romance, purely because I don't want to murder Darcy. This is all friendship, because isn't that what Darcy really needs? Enjoy.

* * *

There was no way Darcy could go to Mr. Simpson's class today--or ever, for that matter. He knew what had happened and that she hadn't told Ms. Sauve, and that was a dangerous combination. She didn't have Media Immersion until her second-to-last hour, so she figured she could fake sick and go home early. She knew Manny wouldn't buy it, but only the nurse had to.

She thought about this as she sat in her English class, completely aware of Peter's frequent, worried glances at her from his desk across the room. It made her almost angry. Why was everyone always so concerned about her? Was she really that bad of a liar, that bad of a faker?

"Darcy, perhaps you could tell us the answer."

"Sorry…what was the question?" She thought her tone was innocent enough.

Mrs. Kwan thankfully didn't make a big deal out of her attention span, or lack thereof. "I asked the class what they thought was going on inside Dimmesdale's head through the majority of _The Scarlet Letter_. Any ideas?"

She did a quick mental scan of what she remembered from the pitiful amount of reading she had done over the week. "Um…well, he's keeping everything inside…all of his emotions and worries and thoughts about what's going on…and it tortures him to the point where he has to hurt himself on the outside to deal with the pain on the inside."

Mrs. Kwan smiled approvingly. "Very good answer."

The corners of Darcy's mouth went up a little in an attempt at a small smile and she returned to her previous mental state. Mrs. Kwan seemed to be the only teacher who ever called on Darcy anymore. Whether Kwan was determined to fill her with English knowledge or she just wanted her to participate, Darcy didn't know. She was just glad her spotlight moment had passed for the day.

Darcy had developed a strategy for faking sick during school. The process had to begin as soon as she entered Degrassi or teachers would get suspicious. She would mention to Manny or Peter or both that she wasn't feeling that great, do her best to appear nauseous in every class, pick at her lunch to reinforce the about-to-vomit atmosphere, then as soon as the period ended she would bee-line it to the nurse's office.

It got to the point in the day where all Darcy had to do was get past the nurse. She slowly entered the office, making a point to down a few gulps from her water bottle and sniff a little. She approached the nurse's desk, not waiting long before the woman looked up from her papers.

"How can I help you?" she asked with the warmest of smiles.

"Well, I haven't felt that great since I got to school, and it hasn't gotten any better. I think I need to go home." Darcy took it as a good sign when the woman's face melted with kind concern.

"Why don't we check your temperature first, and maybe you can relax for a few minutes before deciding."

Darcy nodded and gave her the best smile she could. It was never good to be depressed around a nurse…especially a female one.

Darcy took a seat and held the thermometer she was given in place while the nurse felt her forehead.

"You do feel a bit warm, but let's see what the machine tells us." She gently removed the plastic stick from Darcy's mouth after a small beep sounded. Darcy couldn't read her expression as she peered at the small screen. "You're only at ninety-eight point nine, sweetie. It's good that you're concerned about your health, but I think you'd be fine for two more periods."

Darcy tried not to glare at her. "Okay, thanks." _For nothing_. She rose from her chair and left without another word. As soon as she closed the door behind her the bell sounded, signaling that she should head to Mr. Simpson's class.

She was actually considering braving an hour-long encounter with him when she saw a flash of red hair and dark clothing disappear through the door to the Degrassi basement. She knew instantly that it was Ellie.

Darcy slipped through the crowd and ducked into the same doorway. She wasn't sure if she was doing this more to get away from Mr. Simpson or for a chance to apologize to Ellie. All she knew was that she wasn't going to Media Immersion again.

There was a short flight of stairs that led to a windy hallway, everything dark and cold. As she rounded the final corner, a wave of doubt hit her. What if Ellie was angry with her for the other day? What if this was Ellie's place, and Ellie's place only? What if Ellie had only felt sorry for Darcy, if Ellie's openness had only been a one-time thing?

But she buried all of these thoughts as she entered an area about the size of a classroom. Ellie was sitting in an ancient armchair in the back corner, her legs folded Indian-style and her head bent in concentration. Ellie must have sensed Darcy's presence because her head snapped up, a look of surprise spread over her face.

"Darcy? What're you doing here?"

Darcy opened her mouth and scrambled to find words, but her previous thoughts were coming back in a rush.

Ellie gave Darcy a small smile when she saw how nervous she was. "It's okay, I don't mind company," she assured her, and gestured to a chair identical to Ellie's that sat a few feet away from hers. Darcy sank into the puffy, overstuffed fabric, bringing her knees up as she had done on the steps the day before.

There was a bit of awkward silence between them. "I'm sorry about yesterday," Darcy said suddenly, without making eye contact. "I was just…"

"Don't worry about it," Ellie replied, her tone understanding. "I know how it feels to not want to talk. To not be able to."

At this Darcy looked at her. Ellie's intelligent green eyes were looking down at her hands sitting in her lap.

"Can I ask _you _a question?" Darcy asked her. Ellie nodded. "What were you doing when I came in?"

When Ellie didn't respond, Darcy immediately felt horrible. She felt that her question had been horribly out of bounds and she wished she could take it back.

"I was cutting." Ellie said this single phrase so quietly and suddenly that Darcy almost thought she had imagined it. Ellie lifted her arm up slightly to show her a small red mark on her pale skin. Darcy couldn't bring herself to ask why, but she didn't need to--Ellie could see the question in her eyes.

"I kind of quit a few years ago…but sometimes I do it if I'm really stressed out." This was also quiet. Darcy guessed Ellie didn't tell many people about the habit.

"What happened to make you do it again?" Darcy heard herself ask. What was wrong with her? How could she just ask something like that?

"Craig called me last night from wherever he is. We were talking and he sounded really great and happy, so I asked him if he was off of coke. He got angry with me for mentioning it, which pretty much answered my question. I tried to talk to him about his problem…but then he hung up on me."

Darcy didn't say anything. She had a feeling that Ellie had more to say.

"And you know what the crazy part is? There's a tiny part of me that's still in love with that bastard." Ellie let out a laugh, small and bitter.

"I'm sorry." It was all Darcy could say.

There was another silence between them, but this time it was okay. Ellie was waiting for Darcy to have her turn, waiting for her to be ready to talk. And Darcy knew Ellie wouldn't rush her or pressure her like everyone else did.

"Does it hurt?" Darcy found herself asking. She knew she didn't have to explain further.

"Every time."

Darcy was thinking about what Ellie had said, what she had done, how she made everything go away. She was thinking about how she had done the same thing in the bathroom when she bit her lip until she tasted blood.

It had hurt.

She had felt better.

And that scared her.

Okay, I have to ask--did anybody see the preview for next week's Degrassi? Can you say "AWESOME?" I cannot wait, and it's going to torture me because I have to. I have a feeling it will go on my iPod after it's over. If anyone feels like gushing further with me, please review or send a private message. All means of contact are appreciated. I promise that the next chapter will come much sooner than this one did. And a little advice--reviews are like an extra boost of speed. Good luck, and thanks for reading.


	6. Breakdown

Just so we're all aware, I almost cried while writing a certain portion of this chapter. You'll know what I'm talking about when you get there. Warning: this chapter gets pretty damn angsty, so be prepared. Enjoy, as always.

* * *

Darcy decided to walk home. She knew she would be late and that her parents would ask questions, but she didn't care. At least she could make sure they were still concerned about her existence.

She hadn't worn a coat again, and as soft as her dark blue hoodie was, it couldn't keep out the frigid breeze that swept through the streets. She could feel goosebumps all over her body and her teeth were chattering. She crossed her arms and made fists inside her armpits, but her fingers slowly became numb. As the sky above her dimmed with the approaching evening, she realized she was shivering all over.

When Darcy finally arrived home she could barely feel her limbs. She walked slowly up the brick path that led to her front door, took a key from her pocket and tried holidng it between her frozen fingers. She fumbled with the key, the icy metal object not seeming to want to fit into the lock.

Now her hands were shaking along with the rest of her body. It felt like snow, and it was definitely cold enough for it.

As Darcy made a final, desperate attempt to jam the key in its place the door suddenly opened. Claire appeared in the doorframe, then immediately stepped aside to let Darcy enter, closing the door behind them to keep the cold out.

Darcy hugged herself, slowly rubbing her arms in an ineffective attempt to warm them up. She flinched when Claire gently laid two fingers on her right hand.

"Darcy, you're freezing."

Darcy let out a short laugh. "I c-could've told you th-that." She dropped her bag on the floor and pried her nearly numb feet out of her shoes. Looking around, she realized how quiet it was in the house. "Where are Mom and D-dad?"

"They left about an hour ago. They had to run off to a Church Committee meeting, mandatory for all members. They said they wouldn't be back till late tonight."

Claire didn't say anything for a moment. Then she gripped Darcy's arm--the unbandaged one--and led her into the living room.

"Come on, Darce, let's get you warm." She moved her sister over to the soft, overstuffed couch.

"Claire, I'm fine," Darcy argued half-heartedly, feeling self-conscious about her younger sister taking care of her. Her throat was sore and her voice came out scratchy. When Claire didn't move, she sighed and sank into the cushions. "Happy?"

"Darcy, don't be a loser," Claire told her in a tone that proclaimed herself as the boss. "Now lie down while I get some blankets."

Darcy stared at her sister. This was the first time Claire had ever attempted to over-power her, and she wasn't sure what to think.

Claire left the room to raid the linen closet, leaving Darcy alone for a moment. With nobody there to see her obey an order from her younger sibling she finally leaned over. She curled into a ball, suddenly realizing how very tired she was. She felt like she had been awake for days.

She didn't even realize her eyes were closed when she felt something thick and warm cover her. She didn't open her eyes, but instead found the edges of the blankets and pulled them tighter around her.

Darcy felt the back of a warm hand on her cheek, the hand then brushing away a few strands of hair from her forehead. The light on the ceiling switched off and she heard quiet footsteps leaving the room.

Before she had time to worry about what memories her mind would dredge up, she was already dreaming.

__

Strong hands were pulling her up. She didn't want them to; she wanted only to lie on the couch and sleep, but she had no strength to resist. She tried to open her eyes as the stranger guided her through the house, his fingers clutching tightly onto her shoulders. A door opened, and after being pushed forward a few steps it closed again, followed by the click of a lock.

She managed to lift her eyelids a little, but she couldn't see much through the haze she was in. She could make out a bed in the dark room, but her eyes drooped closed again before she could focus on anything else.

The hands left her shoulders. She swayed a bit, then fell forward onto the mattress, not strong enough to support herself. The hands came back and moved her body around, to what felt like the center of the bed.

As she laid on her back she could hear him breathing, slowly and steadily. The bed trembled slightly as she felt him climb onto the mattress. She used all the energy she could muster to open her eyes. She could make out the blurred silhouette of a man she didn't know--and he was definitely getting closer.

"What--" she moaned, trying to find her voice. The man placed a finger to her lips. She would have flinched if she could have.

"Shhh…" he whispered, like a mother trying to get her child to sleep. He put his right hand on her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. "Just relax, you've got nothing to worry about." He spoke slowly and softly, in an almost comforting voice. Almost.

He withdrew his hand, and for a moment there was nothing.

But then it started.

He pushed her chin down, causing her mouth to open. To her horror he placed his lips on hers, wasting no time before plunging his tongue deep into her mouth.

A cold hand touched her stomach, sliding into her shirt and going up and down along her abdomen. The other shortly joined it, and soon her shirt was pushed up to her bra.

His mouth left hers but began its assault on her bare skin, starting at her ribs and traveling down to her pants, then going along the line of flesh above her waistband.

On the outside she was silent, but she was screaming in her mind. Why was he doing this to her? Why couldn't she move, or even open her eyes? Why wasn't anyone helping her?

He spoke suddenly, his breathing heavier. "How do like it so far?" He paused, as if expecting her to answer, then gave a small laugh. "Just wait till this next part."

If her body hadn't already been frozen, it sure would be now.

Her shirt was now off. Her pants were being unzipped. Now they were on the floor. There was the sound of rustling clothing. She let out a small whimper, her way of showing that she knew what was coming.

And then she felt it.

"Darcy?"

Her eyes snapped open. Manny was kneeling in front of the couch, her face etched with worry.

Darcy sat up, breathing heavily. She put a hand to her face to push her messed-up hair back and felt tears on her cheek.

"Darce, what happened?"

Darcy struggled to pull herself together. "It won't stop," she whispered finally, nearly choking out the words. She could see tears forming in Manny's eyes.

"What won't stop?" Manny stood and sat next to Darcy, putting an arm around her back.

Darcy sniffed. "It happens in my dreams every single night. It's like I'm there all over again…I can--I can feel it. I can feel him." This was the first time she had told anyone about her nightly horrors, and saying it out loud made it so much more real--more real than she wanted, than she could take. She bent her head down, holding her face in her hands and letting the tears run freely.

Manny pulled Darcy into her and held her tightly to her side, trying not to cry herself as she listened to Darcy's small sobs. Their embrace was not unlike the one Manny had pulled her into after Darcy had first confessed to being raped.

Claire had called Manny a few hours ago, asking her to come over.

"I think she really needs a friend right now," Claire had said.

"I think you're right," Manny replied. It was amazing to Manny how in-tune Claire was to how Darcy was feeling. "I'll be right over."

She had arrived at the Edwards residence, made herself comfortable in an armchair in the corner and read her English book, occasionally glancing over at Darcy. Manny had guessed that Darcy was having some kind of nightmare. She had begun moaning and whimpering, squirming under her blankets, making Manny nervous.

Now Manny simply held her close, rubbing her arm, whispering to her a few times, torn between wanting to comfort her and wanting her to let it out. She knew Darcy needed this, needed to cry, and needed to face the fact that something horrible had happened.

Manny called her parents a few hours later, asking them to bring her an overnight bag. She wouldn't leave Darcy tonight.

So, how'd you like it? You guys did a fantastical job reviewing with the last chapter. But seriously, keep the reviews coming. I'm having a lot of fun writing this, mainly because it's keeping me busy until Friday's episode, which I cannot _wait _for. Anybody else excited? Maybe you should burn some energy by typing up a review.


	7. Fight

First of all, I would just like to proclaim last night's episode of Degrassi to be the absolute darkest, most angsty, most depressing, most tear-jerking episode of Degrassi of alltime. If anyone disagrees, you have no soul. Warning: Darcy's behavior in this chapter is loosely based on her behavior in "Live to Tell." Not as depressing as last chapter, but still intense. Enjoy. Review. Enjoy reviewing.

* * *

"How're you doing?"

Darcy and Manny were sitting at the Edwards' kitchen table, both picking at their bowls of cereal. The morning had been pretty quiet up until now, Darcy lost in her mind and Manny not knowing what to say. Darcy's parents were out running errands, Claire was at school and Darcy and Manny had both called in sick.

"A little better," Darcy said in answer to Manny's question. Her voice was quiet, but it was calm instead of sad. "D'you think Ms. H will get suspicious that we're both out on the same day?"

"I really don't give a shit what Ms. H thinks," she replied. She suddenly looked up, an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry." She sometimes forgot that Darcy wasn't big on obscene language.

To Manny's surprise, Darcy just shrugged.

There was a long silence, the only sound being the crunch of cereal.

"Do you think I should tell her?" Darcy knew she didn't need to elaborate.

Manny didn't answer for a moment. "Do you?"

Manny thought Darcy wasn't going to answer because she was silent for what seemed like forever. "I don't know if I can." Her voice cracked on the last word.

Manny's expression was slightly pained. "And that's completely understandable, Darce…" She trailed off, hesitating as she tried to find the right words. "But I think she could really help you if you did."

"How could she help me?" Darcy snapped suddenly. "Did the same thing happen to her? Does she have a magic potion that can make STD's vanish? Can she erase my memory?" Darcy stopped, then looked down. "I'm sorry."

Manny didn't say anything.

The two finished eating and spent a few hours watching TV, mainly home improvement shows because of the time of day. Manny left a little after noon, explaining that she had chores to do and homework from the previous night. Darcy didn't object. She wanted to be alone.

After a few more hours of lying in her bed, dozing off at times and letting her mind wander, she finally decided to call Peter. She just needed to talk to someone, to have a conversation about normal things like movies and music and school instead of rape and suicide and feelings.

"Peter, it's me," she greeted when he answered his cell.

"Hey, Darce--is everything okay?"

She frowned slightly. "Can't I call my boyfriend without something being wrong?"

"Yeah, I just…you know…get worried about you."

"Listen, enough with the questions and concern," she interjected forcefully, aggravated that he was always like this. "Let's go somewhere…how about a movie?"

"If you're sure you're up to it." He sounded doubtful.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, her tone gaining some edge.

She could sense his hesitation. "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."

The time flew by and soon Peter arrived in his blue convertible, top up. She grabbed her phone and purse and got into the car, making herself comfortable in the black leather passenger's seat.

There was a borderline tense silence as Peter drove, Darcy finding she had nothing to say to him after all. Every once in a while he would throw her a worried glance, almost as if he was afraid she was going to explode.

"What?!" she burst, not able to stand his concerned gaze.

"Nothing…" he muttered. He waited a beat before speaking again. "How come you weren't at school today?"

"The same reason why _most_ people stay home," she replied with a tinge of harshness. "Because I didn't feel well." She shot a pointed gaze at him. "What did you _think_ I stayed home for?"

"Darce, I was just asking," he replied in a quiet, slightly exasperated voice. "So, what do you want to see?"

She shrugged, looking out the window now. "I don't care. Whatever."

He sighed. "Darcy, if you didn't want to see a movie, why did you ask to go?"

"What makes you think I don't?"

This time he wiped his face with his hand, slowly pulling down in a sign of frustration. "Why are you always like this?" His voice was louder now.

"What are you talking about?"

He suddenly pulled over on the side of the road, turning off the car and facing her in his seat. "I'm talking about how you're always hostile, always bitter, always snapping people when they ask you questions. Why?"

She let out a slightly hysterical laugh. "_Why_? Because a few weeks ago I sneaked out and went to a party, where some random guy spiked my drink and raped me in the same bed where, an hour earlier, my boyfriend tried to get me to have sex with _him_. _That's _why, Peter."

He looked at her for a few moments, his expression unreadable, then started the car back up and did a U-turn in the empty road. "I'm taking you home," he finally muttered.

"What?"

"I said, I'm taking you home."

"Why?" she asked, a small, challenging smile forming. "Am I getting too _hostile_ for you? Too _bitter_? Too _snappy_?"

"Because I can't _do _this anymore. You're never happy, you never talk to me, when you do you always end up fighting with me…" He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "And we both know that you don't like me anymore."

"Well, _excuse me _for not being _fucking _happy after losing my virginity to a complete stranger while unconscious." Her voice was quiet and cold, her stare pointed and bitter. The vulgar word had burst out of her, and it had stung her mouth on the way out. But she didn't care. If God was letting all this crap happen to her while he looked the other way, he certainly shouldn't care how she spoke.

Peter had visibly flinched at her emphasized words, clenching his jaw over and over again, his fingers holding the steering wheel in a death grip, his knuckles white and strained. He stayed like that until he came to a stop in front of her house, and even then his eyes remained pointed forward.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, sadly but firmly, as she got out of the car, still staring out the windshield.

"I'm not," Darcy spat, slamming the door and storming all the way up to her room. She threw her bag down and paced angrily, alternating between clenching her fists and rifling all ten fingers through the hair at the top of her scalp. After a while entered her bathroom, removing an object from the top drawer of the sink and sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

She stared at the object she was holding, her hands trembling as she turned it around and around. She then took it in one hand, turning her other arm over so her palm was facing up. She couldn't stop her fingers from shaking as they slid the end of the object sideways against her forearm, moving it slowly and carefully. Her arm jerked slightly when she felt the pain, a trail of thin crimson liquid dribbling down the side of her smooth, fragile skin.

She watched, transfixed, as tiny droplets of blood fell to the white tile floor. She knew she had hurt herself. But she felt better. And that was all that mattered.

You all have no idea how much fun that argument was to write! I just had to free her of him because he is just an utter moron. Let me know what you think, both about this chapter and "Live to Tell," 'cause by darnit, I cannot stop talking about it. Right, independenthinker?


	8. Sick

Listen, I'm sorry about all these uber-long waits, but I've had a ridiculous amount of homework lately, which is only going to increase by the week. So please, bear with me. Just to warn you, I personally do not think this is my best chapter--you know, it was a bit forced and it didn't come out the way I really wanted it to, but it's Darcy angst all the same, and like the last chapter, it's partially based on 'Live to Tell.' If it sucks, I expect all of you to tell me so in a review or private message. Please.

* * *

Darcy finally came out of the numb haze she was in. She looked down at her work--three thin, red lines were scattered along her lower arm. She suddenly dropped the razor, fully realizing what she had done. As she took in the cuts in her skin, the small drops of red on the floor and the pink tool lying next to them, she felt her eyes begin to burn.

She had felt better in the moments right after she did it, but now she felt a numbing nothingness. She wasn't really sad anymore but she couldn't say she was happy, either. She thought back to her response from English class. Was this how Dimmesdale had felt after he put himself through one of his sessions? Had he thought it was worth it? She wished she could ask him. Why was a fictional character the only person in the world she could relate to?

But then she realized that wasn't true.

She rose from her seat on the edge of the tub, placed the razor on the counter, grabbed a tissue and wiped the blood off of the tile. She tossed it in the trash and pulled her sleeve down, then quickly sneaked downstairs and grabbed the phone book.

Her heart beat in double time as the other line rang.

"This is Ellie."

Darcy almost froze again, but caught herself. "Hi. It's Darcy."

"Hey." Ellie waited for her to say something, but Darcy had lost her voice once again. But apparently, she didn't need one with Ellie. "You need to talk?"

How did she always know? "Can we meet somewhere?"

"How about the Degrassi basement?"

"Can we even get in there?"

She heard a small laugh on Ellie's end. "I may or may not have learned how to pick that lock in grade nine."

Darcy almost smiled. "Fifteen minutes."

"I'll bring the bobby pin."

Their chairs were facing each other, sitting a few feet apart. Ellie was sitting cross-legged again but Darcy was curled up into a ball this time, her arms crossed and her head resting on the soft arm of the chair.

Darcy wasn't looking at Ellie, but she knew the redhead's eyes were on her. She took a few deep breaths. "I did it today. I cut."

Ellie's expression was unreadable. "How did it feel?"

Darcy didn't speak for a moment. "It didn't." When Ellie didn't say anything, she decided to go on. "I mean, it hurt to cut, but…there was nothing after. My feelings just kind of…went away." She hesitated. "How did you feel your first time?"

The second the question was out of her mouth she realized its double meaning, and it sparked everything inside of her that she had been trying desperately to keep at bay. Suddenly it was only Darcy and her memories, each flashback assaulting her one after the other. She knew she was crying, but she saw no point in trying to stop herself.

And then there was a warm hand on hers. Darcy opened her eyes and saw Ellie sitting in front of her chair, peering into Darcy's eyes.

"Darcy," she began in the most soothing of voices. "What happened to you?'

"I was raped." The confession quietly slipped out, jumping from her lips without Darcy even knowing what she was saying.

"Who?" Ellie knew she didn't need to elaborate.

"I don't know. I was too busy being unconscious to really get a good look at him." She had meant this to be sarcastic comment, but hearing herself say it released a sob and another torrent of tears. She wondered briefly if her supply of them would ever run out.

Ellie looked up at her with her bright green eyes. "I'm sorry."

There was a long silence, interrupted only by Darcy's occasional sobs. Ellie's hand remained on Darcy's, rubbing her thumb back and forth, trying to calm Darcy down.

"Can I see?" Darcy knew what Ellie meant. She just wasn't sure if she wanted to say yes. Finally Darcy nodded, then slowly and carefully pulled her right sleeve up to her elbow. For some reason it shocked her to see the cuts again. She knew she had done it, but to actually look at the red gashes in her skin made her feel sick.

She recoiled slightly when Ellie moved her hand toward her arm, but the light touch she felt was so gentle, so careful, that she relaxed as Ellie's fingers moved along the lines. They traced the marks up her arm, moving ever so slowly from the base of her wrist to her elbow. Darcy watched, entranced, as Ellie got to the end of the third mark. The redhead's fingertips lingered for a moment before coming away from Darcy's skin.

"Who else knows?" Ellie's question jerked Darcy away from her trance-like state.

"Manny," Darcy answered, pulling her sleeve back down. "And my boyfriend…well, my ex…and Mr. Simpson." Her arm was still tingling slightly from Ellie's touch.

Ellie looked surprised. "Why does Mr. Simpson know?"

"He wasn't supposed to…I didn't mean to tell him. It just kind of slipped out."

Ellie nodded. "Yeah. Paige was the last person I expected to find out about my cutting."

Darcy glanced at her watch. "I should go. It's getting late."

Ellie shrugged. "I think I'll stay a bit longer. My mom can last another thirty minutes without me."

Darcy slipped on her coat and headed for the door, but stopped when her hand reached the knob. "Thanks," she said, glancing back at Ellie. The redhead simply smiled.

Darcy made her way around the school, cutting through the parking lot to the path she could follow to her house. She had just gone from the pavement to the grass when she heard someone call out.

"Hey, Abstinence Ring Girl." She turned to find Johnny DiMarco leaning against the brick wall that made up the back end of Degrassi.

She glared at him as he took a drag on his cigarette. "It's _Darcy_, pothead."

"Can't you tell your drugs apart?" he replied, grinning slightly as she turned to him again. "This is called tobacco."

"Do I look like I care?" She began to turn back again when she felt his hand on her arm. She spun around, ready to slap him. "What do you want?" she snapped with as much venom as possible.

He looked pleased, even amused, at her obvious dislike of him. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Knock yourself out."

"Well, I was wondering--if you're not too busy, do you maybe want to give me a quickie or something?" As her expression changed from borderline curiosity to disgust, he grinned again. "I just figured that if pretty-boy Peter can get some from you, why can't I?" He paused, waiting for another reaction.

Darcy's phone rang, interrupting the fiery silence between them. "Yeah, Mom?"

"Darcy, where are you? We thought you were in your room, resting, but then we came to check on you and you were gone! Come home right--" Darcy flipped her phone shut, cutting off her mother's nagging voice.

"Whoa, who knew Darcy Edwards was such a rule-breaker?" Johnny asked, his trademark smirk forming. "So, what do you think about my offer? Oh, wait a second…you're still wearing your promise ring. Guess not."

Darcy thought about what was now waiting for her at home--the questions, the worried-parent looks, the punishments. On a sudden impulse she wrapped her arms around the back of Johnny's neck, dropping her bag in the process, and kissed him full on the lips.

Sensing his surprise she broke away, giving him a mildly seductive smile. "Like you said, Johnny. I'm a rule-breaker." They kissed again, this time with him fully expectant, and didn't stop. She let him push her back against the wall, losing herself in the meaninglessness of their kisses.

She let everything around her dissolve, let Johnny do whatever he wanted, let her lips move freely against his, not really caring what was going on. But suddenly she opened her eyes. What was she doing, making out with a loser she barely knew?

She stiffened her body and pushed him away. "I--I can't do this."

"Why?" he asked, his hands still on her hips. "Is the ring ruining the mood? 'Cause you can always take it off…along with some other things."

Darcy just stared at him for a moment, then pushed him back, hard. "You're sick."

He laughed. "With the way you go from Seductress to Miss Virgin USA in five minutes, I'd say you are, too."

She shook her head, picking up her bag. "I have to go." She hurried away, looking down so he wouldn't see how much his comment had shaken her. She knew she would be facing Hell when she got home, but it was better than dancing with the Devil.

I hope that analogy at the end made sense to everyone. Please tell me what you think. I would write another epic author's note, but I have to go eat dinner. And you have to go review, don't you? Adios.


	9. Hostage

As always, I am miserably sorry for the uber-long wait and I hope to never put you devoted fans through this kind of torture again. But I cannot seem to control the landslides of homework that have been continuously been circulating through my system. And I now don't think that made sense at all, but whatevs. Stop reading my pointless banter, start reading Darcy angst.

* * *

"Darcy, where have you been?"

Mrs. Edwards approached her daughter with her arms crossed, expression serious, Mr. Edwards following behind her.

Darcy rolled her eyes slightly, not wanting to deal with them at the moment. Or ever. "I went for a walk. I needed some fresh air." Not entirely untrue.

"That was some walk," her father said doubtfully. "What took you so long?"

"I stopped at the store to get some aspirin." Entirely untrue.

"I don't see any shopping bag." Great. _Now _her mother was observant.

"They were out of the kind I like," Darcy replied easily. Lying was becoming effortless. "All the others make me nauseous." Her parents exchanged glances. "What, do you want me to go ask for the security tapes? Maybe find some witnesses?" She knew her voice was sharp, but she put no effort into softening it.

Her mother sighed, looking her up and down as if trying to find visible evidence that Darcy was lying. "Next time," she said finally, in a mildly frustrated tone, "tell us where you're going first. Is that so much to ask?"

"No, Mom." Darcy automatically turned to the stairs and ventured up to her room. After quietly closing her door as to not attract more attention from her parents, she flopped down onto her bed and turned her radio. A quiet guitar melody floated into her ears and she zoned out, thinking about how clueless her parents were, how she cut her arm, and how she could still feel Johnny's lips on hers. When the first verse slammed into the chorus she surfaced from her thoughts, listening to the lyrics.

__

Angel of mercy, how did you find me

How did you pick me up again?

Angel of mercy, how did you move me

Why am I on my feet again?

I see you, whoa, whoa, whoa

I feel you, whoa, whoa, whoa

She suddenly slapped the off button, sending the gray plastic crashing to the floor. She clenched her jaws together, lying on her side, glaring at the closet doors a few feet away. A single tear fell from her eye, an angry, helpless tear that wandered over the bridge of her nose and under her other eye before dropping to her bed sheets.

Why did it have to happen? Why her? These questions repeated over and over again in her head, the word "why" echoing the loudest, her mental agony slightly increasing the flow of tears.

"Darcy?"

The voice was so quiet she almost didn't hear it, but a few moments later, without looking, she realized it was Claire.

"Leave me alone." She had meant this to be an assertive command, but it came out in monotone.

Claire was annoyingly undeterred. "I heard a noise. Are you alr—" She stopped suddenly, biting her lip in remembrance of how much Darcy hated the question. "What happened?"

Darcy didn't move. "Please observe the radio on the floor." Her voice scared her. It was emotionless.

Claire didn't move for a moment, then stooped down, picked up the radio and slowly placed it back on the nightstand. After glancing at Darcy she quietly closed the door, then returned to her sister's side. Still not saying anything, she climbed onto Darcy's bed and sat cross-legged at the end of the mattress, facing her sister.

When Claire didn't speak Darcy grudgingly broke the silence. "If you think I'm going to talk to you, you're an idiot."

Claire simply shrugged. "I'm fine just sitting here."

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope. I'm going to sit here for a while because I know it'll drive you crazy."

Darcy let out a small, humorless laugh. "It's a little late for that." She immediately cursed herself for not thinking before she spoke. The last time it had happened she had been talking to Mr. Simpson, and it had had disastrous results.

Darcy was surprised when Claire didn't seem to react to her slip-up. She swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump lodged in her throat. "What do Mom and Dad think?"

Claire didn't say anything for a while. "They're worried about you, Darce. We all are." Claire looked down at her lap, playing with her nails, like she was having an internal debate with herself. Finally she sighed. "You can tell me, Darce." Darcy started to interrupt but Claire cut her off. "You can tell me anything."

"No," Darcy objected softly, her voice quiet and forced. "I can't." She felt something on her arm, then suddenly realized she was absent-mindedly tracing the cuts on her wrist with her finger. She clenched her fist, making a conscious effort to leave the red lines alone.

Claire must have been watching her. "Did you do that?"

Before Darcy had time to even think about how she could possibly answer the question, the door flew open. Her parents stood in the doorway, the light from the hallway behind them casting long, eerie shadows against the floor of Darcy's room. Darcy didn't like what she saw in their eyes. She slowly, nervously sat up in her bed.

"Wh…what's going on?" She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Her mother stared at her apathetically. "Pack."

"For what?" Darcy asked, scared now, feeling Claire turn around and edge toward her.

"No questions, Darcy," her father replied in the same tone as her mother. "You have ten minutes." They both left without a word.

Claire glanced at her sister. "Darcy, what's happening?"

Darcy didn't think Claire had ever sounded more freaked out. She slowly rose from her bed, wondering whether or not her parents were serious about having literally ten minutes, and grabbed her bag, not sure what exactly to pack.

Turned out they were serious. Exactly ten minutes later--Darcy had been glancing at her clock--her father knocked on the door before opening it and immediately entering. When she stood frozen next to her desk, he grasped her upper arm and pulled her out of the room.

After stumbling down the stairs and being pushed through the front door, she realized that there was a red van parked in the street, the engine running. On the side, large white letters spelled out "The Red Pines Center for Troubled Teens."

Darcy stopped dead. _They wouldn't_. But as her father forced her forward and the side door opened from the inside, she realized what was happening.

"Dad, what are you doing?" she asked frantically, getting no response in return. She could feel tears beginning to form. "Dad, please!" She glanced back at him desperately, then gasped when someone gently grabbed her wrist. She whipped around.

Pulling her into the van was a young woman, a little taller than Darcy, with long black hair tied back into a tight ponytail. Her small smile was kind enough, but the fact that she was essentially kidnapping Darcy (with her parents' permission) caused the harmless expression to go unnoticed.

Darcy climbed awkwardly into the van only because she would have otherwise fallen over, then managed one last glance at her father before the door slammed shut in front of her. She looked around, realizing for the first time that there were other people in the back of the van. She quickly peered at each of their faces, not knowing any of them, until she hesitated on one boy. He didn't immediately look familiar to her, but she knew she recognized that cocky smirk…

"Johnny?" The name came out as a mere whisper, too quiet for anyone else to hear. She hadn't recognized him at first because, sometime between their impromptu, she-wished-it-had-never-happened makeout session and now, his hair had been cut off. His usually tangled, wavy blond hair had disappeared, replaced with shorter, yet equally untidy spikes that jutted off his head in all directions. This was the first time she had seen him without his hat.

She quickly looked away, wishing he could be anyone else, and then her eyes fell on Peter. He was sitting on the far side of the middle row, and he glanced casually, indifferently at her before turning back to the window.

Darcy curled up in her seat in the back row, only a mere foot away from Johnny, her jaws working to stop her lips from trembling as the van drove on and left her house behind.

I know, I know, I totally copied the Red Pines storyline...but come on, people, Degrassi was brilliant to send Darcy to brat camp! And I don't know about you guys, but that whole empty chair thing totally made me cry. And don't worry, I will have my own version of the scene in a future chapter. But with this story it's definitely gonna be less Peter, more Johnny. Oops, I spoiled stuff. Oh well, guess you'll just have to read it now. Please review, and excuse my meaningless blabbering for it's after 10:30 at night. ; ) And by the way, the song Darcy was listening to is "Mercy" by OneRepublic. Awesome song.


	10. Faceoff

Howdy. So here is the tenth installment of Fix You, I hope you all are enjoying it so far, et cetera, et cetera. Again, I don't think I can apologize enough for the uber-long waits between each chapter, but like I said, school is an energy sucker-outer, time consumer, whatnot. I've had this chapter completed for a few weeks now, but I just wanted to fine-tune it and make sure it was the best possible addition to the story I could make. So here it is (we're into double digits, people!). Enjoy, review, and if you watch Shark, feel free to check out my 'The Worst that Could Happen' story and review it. So far I have 21 hits. No reviews. It makes me sad. Now read. : )

* * *

"You are all here because your parents love you, and they want to help you. However, most of them feel that they cannot and have therefore asked Link and I to step in."

Darcy and the other hostages, as she had decided to call them, were sitting on the steps in front of the Degrassi mural in the school lobby. She was pretending to listen to Spirit Bear, as the female counselor had introduced herself, but Johnny had taken a seat appallingly close to Darcy and she couldn't concentrate. A few times she had even felt a small tug on her side ponytail, but she refused to give him the reaction he was looking for.

"Over the next few days we will be preparing you for an outdoor survival exercise that will take place at the end of the week."

At this, Darcy felt her hands go clammy. "What do you mean, outdoor survival exercise?"

"We're not going to tell you, only prepare you."

Darcy rolled her eyes. _Fantastic_. "How are trees supposed to help us with our issues?" These people were definitely insane.

This time Link spoke. "The forest is the best place to reconnect with yourself, to achieve mental stability, to find inner peace."

Darcy wouldn't have been surprised if there was a tie-dye hippie shirt under his Red Pines uniform polo. "Well, in _that _case," Darcy replied, with mock enthusiasm, "I can't _wait_." The counselors simply gave her small smiles, which annoyed her even more.

As soon as Spirit Bear was finished with her introduction speech, everyone was given gray sweatpants, white t-shirts and red sweatshirts, all with the Red Pines logo on them, to act as a uniform. Darcy tried to hide her scarred wrist as she shrugged into the sweatshirt, but when Peter, who was changing next to her, let out a frustrated sigh, she knew she hadn't done a very good job. She stopped pulling it on halfway through the motion, then stood still and tried to stifle the many emotions she was feeling.

Suddenly she felt the sweatshirt sliding up her shoulders, and whipped around. Johnny was standing behind her, his hands held up, smirking as usual.

"What, I was just trying to help!" She could hear the smugness in his voice. She glared into his eyes for the longest time, watching as the grin slowly disappeared from his face.

"Don't ever touch me again." Darcy emphasized each individual syllable, her tone cold and fierce.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Does that mean I can't do this?" he asked innocently, and then he pulled her into him and kissed her full on the lips.

She wrenched their mouths apart, shoved him backward and slapped him as hard as she could. "I said, don't touch me." She hoped his cheek stung as much as her hand did, and the corner of her mouth twitched up as she saw a faint red handprint begin to appear on the side of his face.

Darcy's small smile vanished when Spirit Bear appeared in front of her, clearly not pleased with Darcy.

"Darcy, there is no violence permitted in this program."

Darcy almost laughed. "What are you going to do, give me detention?"

"I want you to apologize to Johnny."

Darcy looked at her incredulously. "No."

"Darcy, part of forgiving yourself involves forgiving others."

"Why would I need to forgive _myself_?" _Because nothing would've happened if I hadn't started drinking? Because I'm the one that went to the party in the first place? No, definitely not._

Spirit Bear didn't seem at all intimidated or even shaken by Darcy's tone. "Everybody has something they want to be forgiven for, whether they realize it or not."

"Well, I know Johnny wants to be forgiven for being a sick bastard," Darcy replied innocently. "But who knows when he'll figure that out."

Johnny turned to Spirit Bear, rubbing his reddening face with his hand. "It's not my fault that the schizo-slut didn't realize that I was just continuing our session from a few hours ago."

Out of the corner of her eye Darcy saw Peter turn away from the group, an unmistakable expression of disgust on his face.

"What is your problem?" she asked Johnny, practically shouting the question. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

"Hey, all I asked for before was a quickie, and you're the one who came on to _me_." That stupid smile that Darcy hated had returned to his half-pink face. "Then just now I was only trying to help you finish dressing. And that kiss? Maybe I just think you're hot."

Oh, how she wished she had punched him instead of slapping him. She turned to Spirit Bear. "Are you just going to let him say all that?"

Spirit Bear's expression was perfectly, ridiculously neutral. "Darcy, Johnny sounds pretty reasonable to me. He explained that he was trying to help you. He even admitted that he feels attracted to you, which is a very hard and brave thing to do."

Darcy glanced at Peter for support, only to realize that Link and the rest of the group had disappeared. "Where did everyone go?" Her voice was shaking with anger and humiliation, and even an edge of hopelessness.

"I thought it would be best if you two worked out your issues with each other. It would be beneficial to start of the program by getting through of as many excess problems as possible."

"You want me to get rid of my problem?" Darcy glanced at Johnny. "Go to hell." She turned back to Spirit Bear. "There, happy?" And with that she stormed off to the girls' bathroom, the only place in the entire school where she could hide.

Where she was safe from the one person who brought out everything she was trying so hard to keep locked away.

I suddenly (yes, just now) got the feeling that my chapter endings have been a tad reduntant, and if you've felt that way while reading this, my apologies. It's just kind of like...that's how Darcy feels, you know? But anyway, I had tons of fun writing this chapter because I had Johnny say things that would totally drive me crazy (in Darcy's case, crazi**_er_**) and Spirit Bear say things that would just add to the madness, as unintentionally-annoying as they were. Next chapter, which I absolutely cannot _wait _to write, will be about the whole nature hike thing and the infamous empty chair scene. That scene, by the way, has been in my top five favorite Degrassi scenes for this season. See below for the entire list.

These are in no particular order:  
1)Spinner shaves his head (the tears glistening in the eyes were absolutely heart-breaking, and I now have that awesome song on my ipod  
2)Manny finding Darcy in the Degrassi bathroom after Darcy cuts her wrist  
3)The empty chair scene where Darcy finally says what happened out loud and straight-up  
4)Jane and Spinner: "Don't make me laugh, I'm tender." Pouty face "I always knew you were, dude." Dude is like the cutest nickname in the world for Jane to call Spinner.  
5)The part on the roof where Manny finds Darcy and Johnny making out, Darcy almost jumps, then breaks down in Manny's arms. Although I thought the background music was way to dramatic and it made it seem like a soap opera. Oh well.

Agreee? Disagree? Want to share your own list? Private Message me or review. It'll be fun, I promise.


	11. Blindsighted

Before I ramble about this chapter, I just want to get something out there: My apologies to anyone and everyone who has ever felt like I think I am full of myself, arrogant, or just overproud or whatnot. Like, if I came off as sounding that way to _anybody_, my absolute sincerest apologies, like, _forever_. For the record, I don't mean to sound arrogant if I do, and it is utterly unintentional.

Now, moving on. I went back and read my author's note for the last chapter, and I must confess that I kind of lied a bit. I said that this chapter would have the spectacular empty chair scene in it, but I sadly did not end up reaching it while writing this chapter. So it'll be in the next one (I hope), okay?

Oh, and just a little reminder: **_ELLIE IS IN THE SAME GRADE AS DARCY FOR THIS FANFIC._**

* * *

"We are now going to blindfold you one by one and lead you to the van," Spirit Bear explained, "and then we will transport you to the location where your outdoor solo quests will take place."

While the rest of the group sat on the first section of Degrassi steps and listened to Spirit Bear's instructions, Darcy sat away from them, on the second section, barely aware of her surroundings. She could still hear Johnny's voice in her head, mocking her for being the pathetic tease that she was, and though her eyes were staring at the cement ground all she saw was the look on Peter's face when Johnny had boasted about his encounter with her. Her legs were folded, her chin resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around her shins, a position she had found herself taking up constantly, sometimes without even realizing it.

She had come out of the bathroom on her own terms, and though she had been relieved when Spirit Bear hadn't tried to talk to her, her insides boiled with anger and humility every time Johnny managed to make eye contact with her.

Darcy was so lost in her own mind that she didn't notice when Spirit Bear grabbed her bag, which was lying on the steps next to her. She was jolted out of her thoughts, however, when Link pulled her up by her upper arm. She was too exhausted to protest.

But then the blindfold went on. Darcy immediately froze, a lump rising in her throat.

"Wh-what's going on?" she asked shakily. She knew her voice was thick with the tone of approaching tears.

"I already explained everything, Phoenix," Spirit Bear replied patiently from beside her, using the name that Darcy had randomly chosen at the beginning of the program to be her "rebirth name".

Darcy took a deep, shaky breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself down, and clenched her hands into tight fists. She could do this.

She was taking another deep breath when Link gripped her shoulders and began pushing her forward. Her breath caught.

__

She tried to open her eyes as the stranger guided her through the house, his fingers clutching tightly onto her shoulders…

Darcy's hands flew to her face, struggling with the blindfold before ripping it off.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, then wrenched herself out of Link's grasp. She bolted up the steps and through the Degrassi doors, not caring that she could feel the stares of the others or that she could hear Spirit Bear following her. She turned the first corner in the hallway and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down until she was seated on the tile. Her knees went up again, one set of fingers pushing her hair back as she tried to drive away the building moisture in her eyes.

"Would you like to talk about what just happened?"

Darcy looked up with red, shiny eyes. Spirit Bear was sitting cross-legged in front of her, hands folded in her lap and a calm expression on her face.

Darcy tried to speak, but she couldn't find the words. Instead, she just shook her head. She wished Spirit Bear would leave her alone, though she knew that was never going to happen.

"It's not healthy to keep all of your feelings bottled up inside you," Spirit Bear continued quietly, not ready to give up. "Let them out, Phoenix. Set them free."

Darcy let out a small laugh that sounded more like a cough. She tried to dry her slightly damp face with her sleeve. "I don't even talk to my own parents. Why would I talk to you?"

Spirit Bear still seemed undeterred. "Sometimes it's easier to talk to someone you don't know, someone who has no expectations of you and won't be angry with you if you tell them your problems."

Darcy hated the part of herself that agreed with Spirit Bear. She folded her arms atop her knees and rested the side of her face on the top arm, so she wouldn't have to look at the counselor. "And what if I don't want to talk?" It was supposed to be a question, but it came out flat and unemotional.

"Then I can't help you."

Darcy, surprised at Spirit Bear's response, found herself looking up at the counselor again.

"However," Spirit Bear suddenly continued, "I don't think you're being truthful with yourself when you say that. I believe that, given the right opportunity, you would be relieved to talk about everything that's happened to bring you here." She paused for a moment. "It might surprise you, but the best way to heal is to get everything off your chest."

Darcy said nothing.

After a long period of silence, Spirit Bear finally spoke again. "The van will be waiting for you when you're ready. We aren't going to leave without you." She rose from the floor and calmly exited the school, her usual neutral expression on her face.

Ten minutes later Darcy was outside again, the blindfold replaced. She concentrated only on breathing in and out, on slowing down her racing pulse. She braced herself for the hands that were surely going to grip her shoulders at any second.

When she instead felt Spirit Bear gently place a hand on her back, she still flinched at the unexpected touch but found herself relaxing a little.

"It's okay, Phoenix," the counselor told her quietly, "No one is going to hurt you."

Spirit Bear carefully guided Darcy to the running van. Darcy took her seat, listened to the door slide closed and folded her arms tightly as the van started moving. She tried to imagine that she was the only person in the backseat, that she wasn't surrounded by Peter and Johnny and all of those other people that thought she was a mental case.

"What the hell took you so long?"

Darcy's jaws clenched as she recognized the voice. She realized that she was sitting next to _him_. She thought about trying to say something that would shut him up, but she finally decided that not talking back would bother him more.

"So did your parents pay extra for the special treatment or are you just really crazy?" Johnny asked, making his voice sound innocently curious.

That struck Darcy's nerve, just as she knew Johnny had wanted it to. Why was she so easily affected by him? A single tear fell from her eye, rolling past the blindfold and down her cheek.

"Warrior," Spirit Bear interrupted suddenly from the driver's seat, using Johnny's rebirth name, "there is no talking permitted during this part of the journey."

Darcy wiped her cheek with her sweatshirt sleeve. Maybe it had just been her, but Spirit Bear's voice sounded sharper than it had back at Degrassi.

Johnny didn't bother her for the rest of the drive.

Yay, Spirit Bear. For anyone who is curious or just wasn't sure of intended mental image, at the part where Darcy runs back into Degrassi and has a little meltdown on the floor was envisioned in my head as similar to the part in The Messengers where Kristen Stewart runs back in her house and is all like "What's happening to me?" So yeah.

Reviews! Haven't been getting many. Oh, and speaking of reviews: if you want to leave me a review that either asks me a question or contains a comment that I might possibly wish to reply to, make sure it's not an anonymous review, 'cause if it is I can't answer your questions or comment back.

PS. Is anyone besides me kind of pissed off that Darcy is now pretty much "recovered" from her angst-athon? Like seriously, I still don't think she's told her parents what happened yet, because I would have to kick Degrassi's ass if she tells them and they don't show us the scene. But yeah, kind of miffed at the way she's just..."better" now. I mean, kudos to her for being happy again, but come on, finish the story line! Reviews please, comments about what I just said, flames about how much my story sucks, virtual golden star stickers if it doesn't! I'd love you forever...


	12. Congratulations

Hallelujah, we have a chapter! I know you guys probably all want to beat me for making you wait this long for this chapter, and I'm really really really really sorry about that. This chapter was freaking hard to write…I didn't know how I wanted it to start for a while, then I couldn't figure out how to transition from one scene to the next…plus I sure as hell didn't want to mess up the part with her confession. Oops--did I just spoil the surprise?

* * *

Why was it so exhausting to walk through the woods? Was it because she could barely take a full stride without having to step around a tree? Was it because she was up to her ankles in leaves and pine needles and dirt? Or was it because she hadn't slept last night, her wide eyes glued to the magnificent display of shiny white stars scattered against a deep blue background that was her ceiling?

For whatever the real reason was, Darcy found herself trudging through the endless mass of trees, practically dragging her feet under the weight of her sleepless hours and doubting that she would ever find the clearing where Spirit Bear was waiting for them. She was already fearfully anticipating what Spirit Bear would have in store for herself and the other campers when everyone finally found the meeting place.

Darcy shifted the weight of her backpack, which carried the tent-making supplies from last night, then abruptly stopped. Was that light she saw up ahead? She surged forward through the trees, smiling in spite of herself. She could do this. She could find the camp and deal with whatever Spirit Bear threw at them.

She threw herself forward, suddenly finding that getting to the clearing was the most important thing in the world. The trees began thinning, the air around them brightening.

And then, unexpectedly, she was in the clearing.

Spirit Bear, who was seated on a log and sipping a mug of coffee, glanced up at her. "You're the first to arrive, Phoenix," she announced with satisfaction, holding up a stopwatch. "Impressive."

Darcy avoided Spirit Bear's eyes, stifling a grin. She wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. She glanced around the camp; in the middle there was a fire pit-like setup, but with an empty wooden chair inside the ring of logs instead of firewood. At the edges of the clearing were several tents that looked big enough for two people each.

"Phoenix, could you please come over here for a moment?"

_Crap_. What could she possibly have done already? Darcy ventured over to Spirit Bear, her earlier feeling of accomplishment gone.

"You can put your bag in tent number eight. This is for you," she continued, handing Darcy a white envelope with her name in capital letters on the front. "Don't open it until I tell you."

Darcy didn't say anything. She threw her bag in the tent and was about to take a seat when Spirit Bear called her name again.

"Phoenix?"

She unwillingly turned to the counselor again. "Yeah?"

"Please sit there," she instructed, pointing to a log that was a quarter of the way around the circle from Spirit Bear. _Fantastic._

Darcy obeyed and took her seat. She stared at the envelope in her hands. For some reason it felt heavy to her, like the fact that she didn't know its contents was weighing down her hands.

She found herself mesmerized by the envelope, and she stared down at it until she realized there were other people around her now. She looked up--almost everyone in the group had made it to the clearing, and they had all taken their seats around the ring.

Spirit Bear glanced around at everyone, doing a mental head count. "Okay, it looks like everyone's here. Let's get started." She paused and placed her mug on the ground, then continued. "I'm going to call on each of you one by one and you will read what is in your envelope out loud. Then we'll have a group discussion and move on to the next person."

Spirit Bear glanced around the circle once more. "Warrior, you can go first."

Darcy's insides gave a jolt. Johnny was sitting directly across from her. She shook her head and put her face in her hands. Spirit Bear definitely wanted her to have a mental breakdown.

* * *

"_You've changed so much over the past few months, and your father and I are worried about you. We can't understand why you're being so disrespectful towards the people who care about you. We love you, Darcy, and we just want what's best for you_…"

Darcy stopped mid-sentence and looked up from the letter. "Why do I have to read this bull?"

Spirit Bear's calm gaze fell on her. "You think your parents were lying when they wrote that?"

"I think they exaggerated the truth because they like bitching about what everyone else is doing wrong."

"It was probably very hard for your parents to write that letter."

"Why, because they had to face the fact that their perfect little world is a total delusion?"

Spirit Bear was silent for a moment. "Phoenix, you constantly use sarcasm as a barrier to keep you from really looking inside yourself."

Darcy sighed. "So what if I do?"

"It's unhealthy. The longer you keep everything inside, the more it eats away at you. It's time to let it out."

Darcy froze. "What are you talking about?"

Spirit Bear rose and left the circle briefly, then returned with an old, worn chair. She placed it in the middle, turning it so that it faced Darcy. "I want you to think about what happened. Picture the person or thing that's caused you all this pain. Imagine that they're in the chair."

"And why the hell would I do that?" The last thing she wanted to do was invite her memories back into her mind.

Spirit Bear said nothing, her eyes locked with Darcy's. Darcy sighed. She was going to feel like an idiot, doing this in front of Johnny and Peter and the others…but what choice did she have?

She stared at the empty chair, clearing her head of everything until she could see the vague shape of a man sitting in front of her. She widened his shoulders, thickened his arms, made him taller. Those hands, the ones that had poured roofies into her drink, led her into the bedroom, and done God-knows-what to her body, were resting on his thighs.

She stared at the chair, at him, and saw nothing else.

Then the words started pouring out.

"You took away _everything_ that was important to me," she told him through gritted teeth. "You raped me, and I never even saw your face. I feel dirty, and I've tried and tried to erase it…" She trailed off for a moment, but then the truth, suddenly such a simple fact, came to her: "But I can't."

Nobody said a word.

Darcy gazed at the chair for a second longer, then looked down at her lap. She was suddenly exhausted. Her hands went limp and she let the letter and its envelope fall to the ground.

"Phoenix, you may stay in your tent for the remainder of this activity if you wish," Spirit Bear said quietly.

Darcy slowly looked up, abruptly recalling the fact that there were other people around her. She stood and left the circle without saying a word.

She didn't know that Johnny's wide eyes were following her back, that he was unaware he'd stopped breathing, and that, for the first time in his life, he wanted to protect.

* * *

Just to clarify, the ending is s'posed to mean that he wants to protect Darcy specifically. But the phrasing above just sounded more dramatic. So yeah, what did you guys think of it? Did it suck? Was it good? Review please, for reviews to me are like sterroids to Barry Bonds. Sorry, was that too harsh? Whatev, I highly doubt that he's the Degrassi fanfiction type, and what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

Was "Fight the Power" awesome, or was it awesome? I'm most definitely putting it on my iPod as soon as I get the money. PM me, review, or email me and talk about what you thought of the episode. And yes, I took one look at the previews and out popped a fanfic. It's centered on Jane, where she finds out that Derek's using the roids, and you know the rest. It's from multiple perspectives. So keep an eye out for it 'cause I'll be putting it up soon. And just a warning--she gets beat up waaay worse in my fic than she does in "Fight the Power".

Anyways. Just so you guys know, I was going back and reading chapters, and I realized that there were several typos and junk in each one. It was then that it dawned on me--I should use spell-check! So yeah, I went back and edited all of the chapters, so there's no more misspelled words, and I tweaked a few things a smidge, nothing major. So if you're curious or you just happen to have some time, feel free to reread from the beginning. Then you could review some more! Oh, wouldn't that just be so exciting? This is me, stopping talking. Typing. Review please? Oh, and if you haven't yet read Feel Good, Inc, you should, 'cause it's got Jane and Darcy and Darcy rape-angst and it's my favorite oneshot that I've done so far.


	13. Fallout

So, yeah. Here's lucky number 13. While writing this chapter, I decided that I freakin _love_ writing dialogue. Okay, read now.

* * *

"Knock, knock."

Darcy almost didn't hear Johnny's voice float into the tent. She had spent the past hour lying on her side, unmoving, lost in thought, eyes seeing nothing.

She glanced toward the entrance and took a deep breath. "What do you want, Johnny?" Her voice was so quiet, so tired…

The tent flaps parted and he entered. He took a seat on the sleeping bag that lay waiting for him, turning to face her, one knee up and the other leg flat on the ground.

"Well, turns out Spirit Bear put us in the same tent."

Darcy propped herself up by the elbow. "_What_? That's complete bullsh—"

"Whoa, don't shoot the messenger," he interrupted, holding up his hands. "I can't say I wasn't surprised by the sleeping arrangement either."

She shook her head and lay back down. "I can't believe this. After everything you've said, after everything you've done…and she puts you _here_?"

He frowned. "Look, I know I haven't been the softest teddy bear in the toy box, but I'm not _that_ bad."

She let out a sharp laugh. "Yeah, says you."

He opened his mouth, but decided against whatever he was going to say and closed it again.

"What, no snappy comeback?"

"Afraid not," he replied quietly, looking away. She could see his jaws clenching. What was going on with him?

She stared at him for a long time. "Cat got your tongue or something? I'm pretty sure you should be calling me a crazy slut by now."

"So it drives you insane when I talk to you, but it bothers you when I say nothing?" He was smirking again.

"I never said it bothered me," she answered defensively.

He nodded sarcastically. "Yeah, okay."

She glared at him. "Screw you." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. Just…stop."

It looked as if he was debating something. After a while he sat up a little, his eyes cautious. "Can I just have two words?"

The corner of her mouth twitched. "Believe me, I have two words for you, too—"

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes locked on him, and she slowly sat up. "What did you say?"

"I said," he began, clenching his jaws, clearly annoyed that she wanted him to repeat it, "I'm sorry."

She could only stare at him, her mouth slightly agape.

He looked away and crossed his arms, and didn't say anything for a while. "What you said back there…" He hesitated and started over. "I've been kind of a jerk to you …and…" She had never seen him struggle for words like this. "And you didn't deserve any of it."

Darcy said nothing for a long time.

"Yeah, I did." She thought for a moment. "You're always finding ways to get under my skin, and you never pass up a chance to drive me insane…but you're also the one person who doesn't treat me like…like a rape victim." She paused. "And I think that's actually what I needed."

His gaze was now locked with hers. "So, the Mount Heron party. That's…that's where it…happened?" His tone was surprisingly soft…even hesitant. She could tell he was in uncharted territory.

She looked down. "Yeah. That's the one."

"Do you…" he began, but he stopped and cleared his throat. "Do you know who it was?"

She slowly shook her head. "He, um…he spiked my drink. I passed out on the couch, and when he dragged me into the—" She paused and took a deep breath. "When he dragged me into the bedroom, I had no idea what was going on. I was out before he…before it started."

She could feel his eyes on her.

"Do you remember anything?" His question was quiet.

She finally looked up and saw that his eyes were smoldering with intensity. "Everything."

He looked confused for a moment. "But didn't you just say…weren't you unconscious?"

"I didn't remember much at first, but at night…" She felt her eyes start to burn. "When I sleep, it all comes back."

"That must suck."

She glared at him, but when she saw his expression, she realized he was sincere. She finally sighed. "Yeah, it does."

He was looking at the ground again. "Is that why…why you…?" He couldn't finish his sentence, and instead gestured at his wrist.

She took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Pretty much."

They sat in silence for what felt like a lifetime.

Darcy finally spoke. "So…what now?"

Johnny looked up. "What d'you mean?"

"Well, we're being forced to stay in the same tent together, and we're having our first ever civil conversation—a conversation in which you haven't yet insulted me. What happens now?"

The corner of his mouth twitched the slightest bit. "I'm thinking apocalypse."

Darcy made a stroking-the-beard motion. "It's either that or admitting that we're actually starting to become friends."

They both waited a beat, then looked at each other and simultaneously said their answer.

"Apocalypse."

* * *

I know it's kind of short, but I thought it kind of needed to be. Okay so here's the deal. I want y'all to review, but listen—I need what you liked and didn't like, comments and questions and concerns, suggestions for future storylines…Don't get me wrong, it makes me happy when you say you want more updates, but I'm going to keep updating regardless of reviews, so I need more than that. Okay, so I don't _need_ more, but I would _really like_ more. Specific! Specific! Let's get specific! (That was my attempt at a cheer-ish type thing...)


	14. Surrender

**I have a plan.**

**I was originally going to keep going with this story, just barrel on through all those scenes that the lovely writers left out of Darcy's storyline. But in the version of this story that I wrote for my AWW class, I ended it at chapter 15 with a cliffhanger. I know you guys are all probly like NOOOOOOO, but do not fret. Here's my plan.**

**Instead of continuing Fix You, I'm going to end it with two short chapters, 14 and 15, then write a sequel. This sequel (in theory) will take place slightly in the future so I can have J&D be an item already, and every so often there'll be a flashback chapter with vitals such as the official start of the JohnnyxDarcy relationship, her confession to her parents, etc. As of now, I think I'm going to call it "Forgive, Forget".**

**So please forgive me for these next two appallingly short chapters, and for making you wait an eternity to get them. Just...craziness. Instead, focus your energy on really long reviews that tell me what you think about these new chapters and about my idea for F,F. Kay? I would be forever grateful, o faithful readers.**

Darcy was starting to think that Spirit Bear had OCD. She had split them into pairs when she assigned tents, and now, as they were boarding the bus to go back to Degrassi, they had been ordered to sit two-to-a-seat.

Darcy climbed up the bus stairs and turned towards the seats. She had three options: she could sit with a random person and risk being faced with awkward stares for the entire trip, she could sit with Peter and attempt to get him to quit his sulking…or she could sit with Johnny.

It took her less time than she expected to decide. She threw a final glance at Peter before taking a seat next to Johnny. His hands, fingers laced, were resting on his stomach, his head was tilted back against the seat, and his hat, which had been returned to him that morning, was covering his face.

She looked at him hesitantly as the driver turned on the engine and started down the dirt road. She wasn't sure if he was actually asleep or if he was just faking to get people to leave him alone. She finally turned to face forward.

"What, you're not gonna say 'hi'?"

Darcy jumped. "How did you know it was me?"

He shrugged. "You hesitated before you sat down."

She didn't know what to say. "Hi."

Spirit Bear chose that moment to address them. She rose from her seat at the front of the bus and turned toward the group. "I am very pleased with the progress I have seen in all of you over the past few days. We use a bus for the ride back instead of the van because there is more space and light, and it allows you the opportunity to talk to each other about what has happened throughout your journeys. I hope you all take advantage of this time you have, and really get to know the people beside you."

And with that, Spirit Bear sat back down.

Darcy and Johnny exchanged glances, his eyes open and his hat back on his head.

He raised an eyebrow. "Get to know each other, huh?"

She grinned slightly and offered her hand. "I'm Darcy."

"I'm Johnny." He shook her hand; it was surprisingly soft and warm, and she found herself waiting just a little longer than normal before letting go.

"I was drugged and raped at a party and have since been lashing out at everyone who cares about me," Darcy continued, surprised at how casual she sounded.

Johnny shrugged. "I'm just a bad-ass whose parents got fed up."

Now it was Darcy's turn to smirk. "You? A badass? You wish."

He laughed. "Is that you lashing out at me?"

She mock-frowned. "Of course not—I only lash out at people who care about me, remember?"

He opened his mouth, but then closed it immediately.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I just stopped myself from saying something really stupid."

"Well, now you have to tell me."

He let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah…no."

"Come on, please?" she begged.

He finally sighed. "Maybe later, if we…" He stopped in mid-sentence. "Later."

"Fine. You suck."

He raised his eyebrows. "That's it? You never give up that easily."

"Shut up, I'm tired. Explaining the most traumatic event in your life to a group of strangers can do that to you."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Fair enough."

Darcy moved down in her seat until her shins were pressed against the seat in front of her. "G'night, DiMarco."

He smirked. "Just go to sleep."

But her eyes were already closed.

***

_She was lying on the couch, willing the strong hands that were grabbing at her shoulders to leave her alone. Through the haze she could just make out Peter's blurry shape on the couch next to her…but wait, Peter didn't wear a hat, and he didn't smirk like that, either…_

_The man began pulling her up, but then there was a hand on her wrist—it was soft and warm, and it felt oddly familiar…_

_Suddenly the man couldn't budge her body from the cushions. He released his grip and dissolved in a wisp of darkness._

_The hand stayed on her wrist. She knew that as long as it was there, the man couldn't hurt her._

***

Darcy didn't know it, but she was leaning against Johnny, her head on his shoulder. His hand was on her wrist.

**I know I kind of just "made" them friends, but I couldn't stand them hating each other any longer. Plus, they totally want each other anyways. REVIEW. XD**


	15. New

**I beg of you--please do not hate me for how short this final chapter is. I had to write it really quickly for my class, but I think it still works with the story. But also keep in mind that this IS NOT THE END OF DARCY'S STORY. I'm planning on writing a sequel to Fix You as I mentioned in the previous chapter.**

Darcy felt the bus come to a stop. She could still feel Johnny's hand on hers, and figured it was just leftover from her dream, but then she realized that she was completely awake.

She kept her eyes closed and tried to make sense of what was going on around her: her hands were overlapped on her stomach, with Johnny's palm covering the top one. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her left side pressed against his right.

Her immediate instinct was to pull away, to remove her hand from his, but she found herself resisting the urge. He was just so warm…and for some reason that she couldn't put her finger on, she felt safe.

She stayed like that for a while, pretending to sleep, even though she could hear movement around her—they had probably arrived at Degrassi.

Then the warmth covering her hands was gone. Her eyes were almost open when she remembered that she was supposed to be asleep.

"Darcy."

She slowly opened her eyes, making sure to stretch a little. Johnny was looking at her.

"We're back. It's time to go."

She sat up and looked around. Everyone else was already off the bus. An impossible thought entered her mind: _Did he wait until the last second to wake me up?_

She shook her head a bit to get rid of the last of her sleepiness. "Oh…right." She rose from the seat, walked down aisle, and descended the stairs. She could see her parents, standing across the parking lot next to their minivan.

She glanced at Johnny, who was standing right behind her. They looked at each other for what felt like the longest time—but then again, it could've just as easily been only a few seconds.

She had no idea what to say to him, or if she even should say anything, so she stood rooted to the pavement.

Her heart skipped a beat when the smallest version of his smirk formed on his face.

"See you at school."

With that, he turned and walked away.

"See you at school," she replied quietly, though she knew he couldn't hear her. Then she recalled the presence of her parents.

She began walking toward them, immediately noticing their cautious expressions. She could tell they weren't sure what to say, what to do, if Spirit Bear had "fixed" her.

She came to a stop a few feet away from them. She looked at her mother, then at her father. And then, abruptly, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him. She could feel his surprise, but breathed a sigh of relief when he returned the embrace. She couldn't stifle the smile that came when she felt her mother join them. She closed her eyes, and after what felt like an eternity, finally pulled away.

She looked her mother square in the eyes.

She took a deep breath.

This was not going to be easy.

**CLIFFHANGER!**

**What do we think, guys? Likes, dislikes, general opinions about these last couple chapters or of the story as a whole...you know what to do. The more reviews I get, the faster I write the sequel.**

**PEACE.**

**-KelseyO**


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